If we weren’t…well, then the seed would be planted. The people of the City would start questioning our sanity, much like I’d been questioning it since the onset of this apocalypse. And these citizens were already on edge, no matter how quickly they welcomed us newbies. To them, craziness—with the way the world was now—was a prelude to disaster.
My hand hovered over the phone, which was a fitting fire-truck red, signifying not only its importance but reminding me of my past life as well.
“Stone? What should I do?”
He understood the weight of the situation as much as I did.
The idea of a wraith coming this close while the lighthouse’s lantern blazed was illogical. Wasn’t it? Of course—and I’ve said this before—everything about them was illogical.
Stone opened his mouth, stuttered, but gave me no answer.
It was in times like these that I heard my grandmother’s voice in the back of my head. She always told me to follow my heart—because, she would say, the brain trips itself up, but the heart doesn’t; it doesn’t think, it only feels.
My heart told me someone could be in danger. My heart asked: What if that person running through the snow was someone like me, someone just trying to survive? Hadn’t I done the same thing not so long ago? If no one had helped me, not only would I be dead, but so would Mia and Monica.
Those thoughts settled it.
I picked up the red phone, and I dialed Nick Rider’s number.
Nick spoke very slowly and very carefully. His voice sounded tinny, as if he were on another continent instead of a quarter of a mile away. I believed it was either the weather messing with it…or perhaps darker forces, the kind that rooted for our downfall.
“Are you sure, Grady?”
“I’m looking at her right now.”
“I’ll be right down.”
Two minutes later, Nick, George, and Ayden met us at the gate. We all crowded into the little watch box and stared at the monitor.
There wasn’t much discussion. The others studied the blurry image on the screen and seemed to talk through a mental telepathy I wasn’t privy to.
Nick broke the silence. “Get the boat.”
The boat was the same army snowmobile-tank hybrid that had saved Mia, Monica, and I months earlier.
George did not hesitate. “On it.”
“Ayden, can you man the BP? I need all the firepower we got trained on the gates when we open them.”
BP was code for Bright Point, what the City vets called the lighthouse.
Ayden, snow melting in his beard, nodded.
The walkie krrched. George’s voice came from the speakers, making Nick twist the knob atop the device, tuning it for clarity.
“I’m firing her up now,” George said. A rumble of an engine reached us through the radio waves, but it was loud enough to be heard from the garage too.
“Ayden,” Nick said, enunciating each syllable carefully, “get that light on A section and keep it there.”
“Aye-aye, boss.”
Almost instantly, the monitor flashed white. A few seconds passed before it could adjust to the surge of brightness.
The woman in the snow stopped. Her energy renewed, she jumped up and down and flailed her arms more crazily than before. Her mouth opened as she screamed. I couldn’t hear that, however, despite being within shouting distance of the newest arrival. The wind was blowing much too hard, and the advancing snow-tank drowned everything else out.
Stone said, “George is here.”
“Record time,” Nick replied. He turned to me. “Grady, can you get the gate open?”
Before I could answer, Nick tossed me the keys. They unlocked the breaker box just outside the watchtower. I slid by Stone into the snow. It only came up past my shins, whereas the trenches were almost higher than my head. The maintenance crew kept the walkways shoveled and plowed as best as they could, but the storms were so frequent, it was impossible to keep them clear for more than a few hours, but I had gotten pretty good at navigating through it—I definitely had my “snow legs.”
The box was located inside a telephone booth-sized building a dozen or so feet beyond the gate. I had never done this before, but I figured it couldn’t have been too difficult. I stuck the keys in, which made a button light up green. I pressed it. A grinding noise began from what sounded like deep within the ground. Because of the snow, the gates only parted about fifteen feet, just big enough for George’s tank to slip through.
I stepped out of the box as he motored by. He nodded and gave me a thumbs-up.
The snow was coming down hard again. I could barely see through the haze of white. Still, I wasn’t cold. An odd warmth ran through my body. It was the result of knowing others out here had survived.
What exactly was that warmth? I think it was excitement, but mostly, I think it was hope.
Thirty or so feet from the entrance, George lifted the woman from the snow and into the snow-tank. Once they came back through and I closed the gate, I followed them inside the watchtower.
George guided the woman to a nearby chair.
Nick radioed into the hospital, letting them know they’d have a new arrival soon. Nina Hart, her voice a mixture of curiosity and joy, said they’d be ready.
“Gonna try to warm her up a bit first,” Nick replied.
The woman was whispering. I could barely understand her words.
“They’re c-c-coming.” Her teeth were chattering so hard, I thought they were going to break. “We h-have to l-leave.”
My stomach sank. “Who’s coming?”
The woman tilted her head toward the floor as tears streamed down her cheeks. She lifted the corner of the blanket Stone had given her and wiped them away. I wasn’t sure how old she was—closer to Mia’s age probably—but in that moment she seemed like a frightened
